Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
As Charlotte brushed the soft curls from their tangles, removing the pins keeping her style in place, she stared absently in the mirror. She was now Perry’s wife. The Countess of Winchester. Would she be good enough?
Though they had already shared an intimate relationship, Perry had never seen her completely nude.
Her long locks cascaded down her back, swishing as she shook them out.
It would have to do. Since this was not the kind of wedding preparation that allowed for a full trousseau to be sewn in the weeks leading up to the event, beautiful garments were not made in anticipation of the wedding night.
Charlotte selected her most flattering chemise.
She desperately wanted to please her husband.
Her husband.
The word hollowed out the parts of her that longed to be filled with joy and love on this auspicious day.
Her wedding day. Though Mrs. Higgins and Aamina offered to help their mistress prepare for the evening, Charlotte had dismissed them, unable to stand the looks of excitement and glee that traveled between them. How could they understand?
She was not a deliriously happy bride. She was giving her child a better life—the life Aurelia was entitled to all along.
She offered herself to Perry in exchange for safety and security.
A second chance to live the life she was meant to, for the price of a scandal to weather when they returned to society.
Perry would never let her keep the child from him another moment, despite the risks of her re-entry among the upper set in London.
From the moment he found her, he adamantly refused to depart from Fermoy and leave her in peace to resume her idyllic life of isolation.
Now, her stomach was in knots in anticipation of fulfilling her duties.
Charlotte watched as the gray skies that had developed that afternoon came to deliver the rain they had threatened. A clap of thunder made her shiver. She longed to curl up in her bed and hide.
She rubbed her arms as the evening rain pelted and rejuvenated the bright green grass and the colorful flower beds.
The weather had held out for the wedding celebrations, and now the rain fell in a mesmerizing pattern that almost allowed her to forget.
She longed to feel that rain on her face, to watch it dapple the leaves in the garden and nourish the land that fed her very soul.
Charlotte jumped as she felt a soft touch on her shoulder. Warmth and longing clattered against the trepidation flooding her body.
“I am not ready yet, my lord,” she muttered, casting a sideways glance to the man who stood behind her.
“Allow me to assist you, and please, call me by my given name. We must not maintain formalities behind closed doors. We are husband and wife now, after all.”
Charlotte turned to face him, speechless as she connected with the penetrating blue eyes that seemed to see deep into her very soul. If she looked at him for too long, she would be unable to resist indulging feelings that had the power to be both terribly seductive and devastating.
“I understand that there are some expectations on a gentleman’s wife. I will not deny you anything you desire. It is what we agreed to, my lord.”
Frowning at her words, Perry brought a hand to her chin and tilted up her face, giving her no choice but to look at him. Her chest tightened as their gazes connected squeezed painfully as she fought to keep the glaze of tears from escaping.
“Say it, Lottie,” Perry said, brushing her bottom lip with his finger. “Speak your husband’s name.”
Charlotte closed her eyes, gathering her strength against the onslaught of emotion his name would release once on her lips.
“Perry.” She shivered as she leaned her head to the side, entranced by his mere touch. How would she be able to maintain distance from him and not engage her heart if his touch made her this weak? Something flickered in his gaze, before he was able to mask it. Heat. Desire.
“I dreamed of you, you know. When I was abed and feverish, recovering from my gunshot. I dreamed of you. I believe it kept me alive. I am eager to feel that closeness we once shared.”
The walls seemed to close in around them at his words. Memories that Charlotte held dear brought her back to reality. She shook her head and pulled away. He spoke of her as a fantasy and this was reality. They were no longer the lovers of their youth.
“And I am happy to fulfill my duties. I understand my role as your wife.” Her voice trembled, her breath shuddering in her chest.
His brows gathered as he placed his hands on her shoulders and watched her. Charlotte stiffened under his scrutiny.
“I would have my wife willing, dare I say, desirous of my presence in her bed.”
A soft blush bloomed over her face, the warmth creeping over her skin as he spoke the intimate words so plainly.
“I will submit to your desires. We both know I am no virginal young miss. I understand what will happen next. I am not afraid,” Charlotte admitted, straightening her shoulders and raising her gaze, attempting a look of confidence she did not feel.
She was afraid of the power he held over her with just one touch. One kiss. One look.
Perry shook his head, his brows gathering in confusion, and smiled lightly at her. “Then why do you look like I am here to attack you?” he asked, his shoulders slumping. “I will not force you. I prefer to have my women willing.”
Her gaze hardened at his mention of other liaisons he had been involved in since their time together. She gnawed at her bottom lip, attempting to keep a comment about his other women inside her mouth. Would he be thinking of his first wife when he lay with Charlotte? Did he miss Eliza?
Of course, he had previous liaisons. It was to be expected of a vigorous man his age.
Charlotte winced at the possibility. Now he was here, back in her arms, and wanting to be in her bed.
Charlotte sighed in resigned acceptance.
She was desirous of having him be hers once again, yet something kept her from acting naturally or being completely comfortable.
Her resignation was a shield. A form of protection.
Her need to maintain some emotional distance from him kept her from surrendering completely.
If she withheld her heart, perhaps she wouldn’t get hurt if their marriage of convenience ended up being just that.
“I am willing. I offer myself up to you completely,” she said, her gaze softening.
Reaching her hands behind her head, she lifted her heavy hair and let it cascade becomingly down her back.
The tips of her fingers traced the top of her shoulders.
Gathering her courage, she twined her arms around his neck and lifted herself on her toes for a kiss.
He hesitated while she desired to move things along.
Perry gripped her by the waist and her body heated.
Closing the distance between them, she brushed the tips of her nipples against his hard chest, as much for her own enjoyment as his.
His hold on her tightened as he deepened their kiss.
She was instantly transported to their feverish moments of longing fulfilled, the ones that haunted her, where she behaved like a complete and utter wanton.
Back then, there had been no barriers or expectations between them.
Each stolen moment had been the product of a sweet and tender love developing between them. Tonight was different.
She was terribly nervous.
It was as though she had completely forgotten how to perform the act of love.
They were not in the maze, or the garden, or a lush clearing in the forest.
They were in a bedroom, living as husband and wife.
There was an awkwardness lingering between them, though both were committed to fulfilling their duties.
Perry rested his lips upon hers, and his tongue slipped tentatively into her mouth, which she accepted shyly.
His hands roamed her back, sending electricity skating over the surface of her skin.
A soft coil of desire built in her core, her body responding instantly to his touch.
His achingly slow kiss stoked the flame of desire still burning within her.
He pulled away, sighing and resting his forehead against hers.
“I am content to leave you to rest. It has been a trying day. Nay, a trying week. I must admit, I am more tired than I anticipated.”
With a quiet nod, she stepped back, guilt washing over her. Of course, he was still recovering. It had been a long day.
“There will be ample time to explore the physical side of marriage when we are both more…comfortable,” Perry said, turning on his foot and walking from the room.
The silence closed in on her as he vacated.
Charlotte stared at the closed, solid wood door.
Its pastel blue paint dusky in the candlelight, and she imagined she could see him striding purposefully to his bedroom across the hall.
Her willingness had somehow been found lacking.
She couldn’t help but feel like he had rejected what she had offered.
“I dreamed of you, you know. When I was abed, recovering from my gunshot. I dreamed of you. It was one of my most treasured memories. I believe it kept me alive.”
Charlotte’s cheeks burned with shame as she wrapped her arms around herself and revisited the memories. The heat, their bodies mindless and filled with desire. No walls, no inhibitions. In those days, no stifling rules of society kept them apart.
Who was that woman? Charlotte didn’t recognize her.
All she knew was this hesitant, lovelorn wife of a gentleman who had somehow failed to convince her husband she was prepared for marital relations.
Perhaps his interest had waned over the years, or maybe he had built up her memory to the point where she could never measure up.
Had she said something to upset him, causing him to pull back?
She offered herself up to him completely. Was that not enough?
Charlotte traced the neckline of her nightgown, wondering if perhaps she should have selected something more revealing.
With a shake of her head, she chastised herself.
She possessed nothing more tantalizing, only the functional clothing of a woman living in solitude.
Her heart raced as she recalled the way he had kissed her. Had she kissed him back properly?
With a heavy sigh, Charlotte sank into her bed, lonely and embarrassed. Resting on her side, she curled up into a ball.
Though she had never been married, she had expectations of the wedding night. Somehow, hers ended up being lonelier than she anticipated.
She should be glad to be spared the duties of a wife.
All she could reach for was a deep sense of disappointment.
Turning over, she resigned herself to the fact that this was the nature of a marriage of convenience. She was a fool to have craved otherwise.